Because THAT Would Be Disgusting
by Mickis
Summary: After watching an extremely weird cartoon show, the guys end up having the most absurd of conversations, where they learn things about each other no one had expected, much less been prepared for. One shot.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own the ninja turtles, as for any grossed out reaction? Well, I guess I have no choice but to take the responsibility for that.

**A/N:** _This may not be appreciated by a whole lot of people in the TMNT community, where the topic is kinda gross, so those with sensitive stomachs: be warned. But, I know for a fact that at least two people will enjoy this little ficlet. So kaya lizzie and Red Rebel – this one's for you!_

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**Because THAT Would Be Disgusting**

by

Mickis

**Genre:** Humor

**Language:** English

**Fan Fiction Rated:** T

**Summary:** _After watching an extremely weird cartoon show, the guys end up having the most absurd of conversations, where they learn things about each other no one had expected, much less been prepared for. One shot._

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Having just finished beating up the punching bag in the dojo, Raphael walked into the living room while wiping his sweaty neck with a small, tattered towel. He couldn't help but notice all his three brothers in front of the TV, which was a rather rare sight; they could almost never agree to watch something. As it were, Donatello and Michelangelo shared the couch while a slightly appalled looking Leonardo occupied Splinter's comfy chair.

Walking up to them in curiosity, Raph asked, "Yo, guys. What's on? You look kinda..." But before he could get any further he caught a view of the cartoon show that was currently on and could not help but trail off in silence.

He wanted to look away; he really did. He wanted to say something sarcastic and leave for better, less immature things, yet he couldn't help but stare at the TV, as if hypnotized by the words of the same spell that had bound his brothers.

It consisted of three cartoon characters dressed in similar superhero-ish looking outfits, although they were all of different colors. The black outfit belonged to a girl with dark, inches-short wild hair with red highlights sprouting out of it. The capital letter 'R' was printed on her chest, and clutched in her right hand was rolled up, black doggy doo-doo bags. The girl standing next to her was much tinier, he dark purple spandex suit truly exposing her skinny limbs. She had curly black hair that reached below her chest, where the letter 'M' was sewed on. Strapped on to her back was an impressively small yellow pressure washer, the nozzle safely attached to the side of the device, and around her wrists, much like very big bracelets, she wore rolls of the most luxurious toilet paper ever known to a man's tush. The final girl had a red outfit on her, her long brown hair reaching all the way down to her waist. Clutched in her hand was a can of airfreshner, violent scented – and sewed on to her quite large bosom was the letter 'K'.

Together, the three made a team the catchy theme song so dramatically had called 'The Thee Brown Musketeers'. Why, Raphael still didn't know. All three of them did have dark hair, but somehow he thought it was more to their unusual name than just hair color.

In this particular scene, all three of them were dancing the night away at a nightclub, where no one seemed to react to their unusual choice of clothing. They put up a show of violent ass shaking and surprisingly acrobatic dance moves. Even the lady marked 'K' seemed to move quite effortlessly in her three inches stilettos.

The smallest of the three soon broke free from the trio to buy herself a glass of beer at the bar. Having just paid the bartender and picking up her glass to meet up with her friends – that had both retreated to a table to catch their breath – something suddenly started ringing in her cleavage.

Shamelessly reaching down for a tiny device, the girl flapped it open to reveal a frenetic female on the minimal display.

"Help me, Mic!" she cried at the Brown Musketeer. "I'm in the restroom, about to wet my panties, and it looks like someone's ass exploded in here!"

"Fear not, innocent toilet-goer!" Mic cried dramatically. "Me and the girls will come to your aid faster than you can say 'diarrhea'!"

With that, she flapped the device shut, shoved it back down her spandex top and expertly gulped down her untouched glass of beer before running after her fellow Musketeers.

Engrossed in a revolting discussion about what smelled worse: a turd of dog shit or a lonesome brown turtle someone had forgotten to flush down, floating around in the bottom of the toilet, the subject was abruptly cut short once a determined looking Mic came up to the two, planting both her hands on the freshly wiped surface of the table.

Not being able to talk over the music, they used their superpower ability to frenetically gesticulate the message with their hands and bodies.

Looking like Mic was mimicking a drunken emu in a shopping mall that had just announced 'closing time' in the speakers, the Musketeers somehow managed to figure out that a women in the restroom was in desperate need of their unique service.

The two of them quickly rose to their by now slightly unsteady feet and, along with the tiniest musketeer, elbowed themselves through the sweaty crowd, their odd choice of weaponry clutched madly in their hands.

Finally arriving at a toilet line that reached longer than the Chinese wall, the Brown Musketeers decisively pushed their way through all the grumpy ladies, accidentally knocking a drunk or two over. Finally, they entered the restroom where they found the woman in question curled up in the far corner, beneath the broken hand dryer, rocking back and forth in a state of severe shock.

"There she is!" Mic said, pointing to the poor woman. "Kay, why don't you go and talk to her?" she asked, turning to her friend dressed in red.

Kay nodded solemnly and set off to address their innocent, when someone suddenly grabbed her by the upper arm.

"Red," Kay stated when turning around to face her black-clad friend. "What is it?"

"Err..." Red hesitantly stuttered, pointing to Kay's chest. "I think one of your sidekicks is about to... um, attempt a solo career."

Looking down to find one of her boobs having nearly popped out of the tight shirt, Kay smiled briefly and quickly shoved it back down with its twin, saving their poor innocent her second shock for the evening. With that taken care of, she hurriedly clicked her way across the wet tiled floor and bent over to the poor woman to search eye contact with her petrified stare.

"What's wrong, chica?" she asked in concern. "Where's the emergency?"

Raising a slow, shaking finger, the young woman pointed at one of the closed booths in the bathroom. Kay grabbed the airfreshner tighter and put on her 'this is business' face, quickly rising to her feet and turning to her two friends with a determined nod, the others quickly echoing her action. Red bravely tore off a black plastic bag from the rest, pulling it over her right hand so quickly it was as though it was what she had been born to do.

Striking a dramatic Charlie's Angels pose against their backs, Mic and Red watched as Kay masterfully kicked in the already broken door with her high heels, not even close to losing her balance in the dangerous stunt.

Not having been prepared for the extent of the disaster in there, however, Kay desperately covered her nose from the horrible stench and madly started spraying the airfreshner till every mili-cubic of air in that booth smelled of freshly picked violets. Smiling proudly, Kay stepped forward to the dripping toilet to have a look at what kind of evil they were up against, her high heels saving her from the unidentified fluid the floor was covered in.

Her eyes widened in horror, and she quickly realized she was in way over her head. Covering her eyes and throwing herself out the booth, she hurriedly mumbled under her terrified breath,

"This one's yours, Red."

With that, Kay rushed up to the sink, turned on the tap and violently threw cold water onto her face, hoping it would regain color soon. It was no secret that Kay was the queasiest of the three, but her raw strength and dirty sense of humor more than made up for it.

Red swallowed bravely and pulled the plastic bag further down her raised hand, strong steps leading her into the booth and eventually up to the can, which had yet again began to reek of their brown enemy.

Looking down the toilet, she could indeed understand why her fellow musketeer had fled. But Red would not allow her fear to take over, and determinedly (albeit extremely disgusted) reached with her hand down the toilet, closing her plastic-dressed grasp over the lethal chunk and brought it out of its hole. She quickly closed the rest of the bag over the awfulness and tied a triple knot to make sure the stench would stay where it couldn't harm anyone. With an effortless fling of her wrist, she threw the bulky black bag across the bathroom, all the drunken women that stood waiting watching in awe as the bag landed in the trash bin by one of the corners, scoring a perfect ten. Even the traumatized victim had woken up from her shock, gaping in disbelief at the sight.

A sea of applause broke out amongst the crowd, all the women whistling in adoration of Red's unique doo-doo bag throwing ability.

Once the cheering had finally died down, Mic grabbed a firm hold of the silver hose of the pressure washer and stepped inside the booth, twisting the nozzle and spraying the booth in hot, turd-demolishing water, skillfully aiming the powerful jet at even the most difficult of corners, leaving the white tiled walls gleaming perfectly in the fluorescent light. Turning off the water, she brought the nozzle to her lips and kissed it thankfully, before once again attaching it to the miraculous pressure washer on her back.

With her face having returned to its usual healthy color, Kay once again stepped inside the booth, the can of airfreshner clasped in the most perfect of grips and started spraying her violet scent in a smooth, angel-like movement, until no one would have ever been able to suspect the stench that had once been.

Smiling proudly, she turned around to Mic with a nod, affirming the completion of their work. Mic nodded in return and took off one of the rolls of toilet paper she wore around her wrists, walking up to their innocent toilet-goer and handed her the roll.

"Here," she said kindly. "After using this, your ass will never again be able to go back to store bought TP."

The woman smiled gratefully as she accepted the soft roll of paper, pushing herself up to her feet to enter the now immaculate toilet booth to do her business.

The Brown Musketeers turned to head back to the dance floor; after all, it was still 11PM _somewhere_ in the world, when Kay suddenly remembered something and turned back to the woman they had rescued.

"Oh," she added. "And don't forget to wash your hands." She cheekily winked one eye before she grabbed the arms of her two friends and exited in dramatic slow-motion, all the women that had yet to release their full bladders respectfully moving out of the way of the supercoolness that was The Three Brown Musketeers, the scene fading out.

Staring at the screen in shock and disgust, Raphael just couldn't come up with a fitting comment for what he'd just seen – in cartoon nonetheless!

However, Leonardo made an attempt, "That was... was…"

"Fantabuloso!" Michelangelo excitedly finished.

"I was looking for something in the lines of 'repelling'," Leo corrected with a frown. "But whatever."

"Oh, c'mon!" Mikey chimed with a wide grin none of his brothers seemed willing to return. "It wasn't _that_ bad. It was an original plot, the animation was way impressive and the dudettes were HOT!"

"I'll admit it was an original plot," Donnie nodded at his little brother.

"And the chicks _did_ look hot," Raph added.

"Yeah," Don agreed with a shy smile, "but not even that could save the distastefulness that was that show. I can't believe they actually air this kind of trash on TV. I'm just... so shocked," he finished with a pale face that spoke of feelings that went beyond the realm of disgust and nausea.

"I still think it rocked," Mike insisted as another, less gross show came on. "And besides," he added, "Shit isn't _that_ disgusting if you think about it."

"Are ya fuckin' kidding me, Mike!" Raph outburst in disbelief of his little brother's statement. "I'm sick ta my stomach, having watched that show – and it was in cartoon!"

"C'mon, Raph," Mike bravely tried to convince his brother that he was overreacting. "Everyone shits. You, me... even our Flawless Leader here!" he said, pointing to a not-so-amused looking Leonardo.

"True," Donnie nodded in agreement. "But it's still not something I'd make a TV show about. It's the kind of something everyone does; yet no one talks about. It's common sense to keep that kind of business to yourself."

"Well put," Leonardo nodded from his chair.

"I still think you're exaggerating," Mike said, turning back to look at the TV. "Besides," he casually added, "I bet none of you would turn down taking a bite out of your own turd if you were paid a million bucks to do it."

"Do what?" Leonardo twisted his face in extreme disgust. "Mikey, that's SICK!"

"Oh, don't be all prude, Leo!" Michelangelo only waved him off. "Think of all the things you could buy with that kind of money. And it's just one quick bite. It would be over in like a sec!"

"That's just material things," Leo argued. "I've got more pride than that, thanks. Besides," he added with a scrunched up face, "I can feel my stomach turning at the mere thought of it. Can't you guys?" he asked, looking over the back of his chair to Raphael for agreement.

"No way!" Raph objected. "Juz give me a fork and I'll dig into that turd. Fer a million big ones I'd sell one a' my lungs!"

"Raph, I can't believe you!" Leo exclaimed in horror. "Are you _serious_?"

"Hell yeah," Raphael nodded. "Do ya even know how much money a million bucks _is_, Leo?"

"Not enough to eat up my own honor. Wouldn't you say, Donnie?" he said, turning to the purple-masked turtle sitting on the left side of Mikey on the couch.

"What are looking at me for?" Donatello only replied. "I'm with them on this one. A million dollars is a lot of money. _Especially_ to us. Besides, it's just my own dump… right?" he asked, turning to Michelangelo for confirmation, his face already twisting at the thought of having to bite in to someone else's business.

"Well, yeah of_ course_," Mikey confirmed. "There's no way I'd sink my teeth into someone else's brownie."

"Ova' my dead body," Raphael quickly agreed.

"There's a difference?" Leo asked in shock.

"Well, yeah," Donatello replied in a 'duh' tone of voice. "At least with my own, I'll know what's in it. There's a _huge_ difference, Leo."

"Of course," Leo sarcastically nodded. "Because _that_ would be disgusting," he finished, completely stumped with his siblings' senseless reasoning.

"Whatever," Raph huffed, leaning onto the back of the couch with his folded arms, looking at his blue-masked sibling from the space between his two youngest brothers. "I have a feelin' you'd have a tough time livin' up ta yer words if someone held a suitcase of one million dollars in front of ye, open fer the taking."

"Hardly," Leonardo insisted, stubbornly shaking his head, completely disgusted with his family. He had no idea all three of them were so... cheap. He'd truly thought more highly of them than that. Especially Donatello, who couldn't even flush down someone else's pee.

"If you are not watching the TV, I suggest you turn it off," Master Splinter calmly spoke up behind them, causing all four turtles to turn around.

"Hey, Sensei!" Mikey instantly lit up. "Can I ask ya somethin'?"

"Of course, Michelangelo," Splinter kindly answered, cluelessness most certainly being the reason behind his sweet tone.

"Mikey. Don't," Leo firmly told his youngest brother.

But, much like Leo had expected, Mike completely ignored him and went ahead with embarrassing them all anyway.

"If someone offered you one million dollars in exchange of you taking a bite out of your own turn, would ya do it?"

"…Turd?" a confused rat repeated after a few seconds of silence.

"Your shit," Raphael bluntly explained.

Splinter's both ears rose on top of his head, and his eyes grew wide at the word. Leonardo suspected they would all earn a nifty punishment for Michelangelo bringing this up to their father – their master!

After a moment of tense silence, the old rat got his features under control, and with a serious tone he said, "Michelangelo. How you _ever _came up with such an odd, hypothetical situation, I will never be able to grasp – but yes. I'm quite certain that if I was guaranteed the money, I would."

And so it was when Leonardo's entire belief system crumbled to the unrepaired state it is today.

The End


End file.
